Chapter Nine: Magic and Memories

The room was cold. Erin, who had been more than excited to begin Defense Against the Dark Arts, couldn't help but feel disappointed as she regarded Professor Baddock. He was a thin, weedy looking young man with watery eyes and brown hair that was already receding. From what she had heard about the Dark Arts, she wasn't sure if Baddock looked like he could withstand them.

"Welcome students; I am Professor Baddock," Baddock said, and Erin was not disappointed. She had been expecting his voice to come out as a squeak or a sniffle, and Professor Baddock fully obliged her assumption. "I am highly honored to teach you. Some of your parents may know me; after all, I was a student here too, long ago in Slytherin. Now, I am honored to be teaching my favorite subject and fulfill the role as Head of Slytherin House."

The Slytherin first years looked around, smirking at each other. Alubs cast Erin a worried look. "This is my third year teaching at Hogwarts," he said, "so I'm nearly as new as you are.

"On to business, then," Baddock said, mindlessly twirling his wand in his left hand. "Defense Against the Dark Arts is a highly important subject, for there is never a time you don't need to know how to defend yourself. The Dark Arts are an evil, corrupt power," he said, his eyes widening, "and it is my job to teach you to protect yourself."

I-will-find-power!

Erin shifted uncomfortably in her seat and turned her head to look at Nick. He was staring at Professor Baddock, and from this angle it made his eyes appear to be glittering… and scary.

Baddock smiled at the class, but it made him appear like a ravenous weasel. "For our first lesson, I've prepared a highly interesting layout course for you to read from your books." Erin noticed he said the word 'highly' a lot. "So everyone, pull out your books and begin reading!"

Chapters one and two of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection were, as Baddock would say, highly tedious, and Erin spent the rest of the period daydreaming about caves filled to the brim with ice.

The walk back to the village was longer than she expected. The girl was cold and numb and gasping for breath by the time she spotted the wooden gateway that seemed so welcoming at the moment. She pulled her feet to the posts, aching for a warm blanket by the fire, when a figure blocked her path into the village.

It was the man who had sent them into the ice caves.

"Welcome back," he said, bowing his head slightly. The girl fidgeted slightly, unsure whether she wanted this new respect. "So you have survived the ice caves." He said it as a statement rather than a question. The girl nodded, her teeth chattering too much to speak.

"Yes, wonderful. But it is such a pity the other didn't survive," he said, not sounding regretful at all. She felt her heart constrict. The boy hadn't survived? But the man didn't let this new information sink in. "What did the Oracle tell you?"

And suddenly, the girl did not want him to know the Oracle had spoken to her. She did not want to relay what the Oracle had said. That information was for her and for her only.

"The Oracle didn't say anything at all."

Nick caught up with her silently after class, and Erin followed him outside for midday break. Not many people were out; only a handful of first years, and some Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs from older years that Erin didn't recognize.

They sat at the base of a colorful tree that was near the lake, so they had the entire view of the courtyard to themselves. "It's so pretty here," Erin mused. "So different from where I grew up. It was always so icy and cold." Nick looked at her. "Really? Where did you grow up?" Erin cursed at herself.

Had she told him too much? Would he figure everything out on his own? Piece it together… her eyes, her family, her home…. What if he knew? How else could he have known…? Or what if it was still forbidden, even here…? She couldn't tell him anything. It would ruin everything she had fought so hard to hide, to protect. She wouldn't say a thing.

"Grimstad, Norway." She surprised both herself and Nick at that moment. She knew he hadn't expected her to tell him. Why had she told him?

"What about you?" she asked.

She didn't need to ask the question, because she already knew the answer. His eyes had flashed that strange glint again; and at that moment, she knew he was definitely not from England. Nick didn't look at her, but plucked a flower from the grass and began to pick off its petals.

"I was born in Razgrad- that's in Bulgaria, you know. I came here at around eight, maybe nine. And to tell you the truth, I was set to go to Durmstrang. You know; the other wizarding school." The other wizarding school? Could it be that… the Academy… was one of them?

"But then my dad ran off on us," he stated in a matter of fact voice, as though he had rehearsed saying it. He was still tearing apart the flower. "And my mum… she just couldn't stay there. Too many…" he hesitated. "Too many bad memories." Erin nodded at that and drew closer to him. She vividly remembered Charlie saying, "Send your father my regards!" "Is that why you don't like Charlie? She knows about your dad?"

"Her father used to be friends with my dad," he said. "He tells me my father's a good man; that I should forgive him. That everything he did was for a greater purpose." Nick clenched his fists. "But I will never forgive him."

The fog was creeping in slowly, carefully wrapping itself around the delicate body of the small girl. The girl clenched a thin string that tethered her to the other side of the fog. And suddenly, a woman's voice, anguished and desperate, called out, and the girl moved forward, eager to find her. But the string held tight and would not allow her to move forward.

"Please, come here!" the woman cried. The girl spun around. "Where are you?" She shouted. The woman made no acknowledgement that she had heard her.

"Let go, my child, let go. Release the string!" The girl made no movement to release it, but clutched it tighter. "I cannot!" she yelled back. The woman sobbed. "Please, you have to! You have to learn to let go; to forgive and let go. You cannot spend your life hanging on to it. Let go!"

"No!" the girl held on to the string with both hands, sweat beading on her forehead. "Fine," the woman's voice hissed, sounding sad. But also dangerous. "You have chosen. Let this be your downfall!" And the ground opened and swallowed the girl whole, into the darkness, without any string to support her.

And the girl woke up.

"It's hard to forgive someone when you're so mad," said Nick. He opened his mouth and seemed about to say more when the sharp sound of the bell rang from the open archways and the Gryffindor first years began to exit the courtyard. Nick dropped the half destroyed flower onto the ground; sighed and rose, helping Erin up, and they walked back to class together.

The flower drifted to the ground and burst into flames in the empty courtyard.